


Definition

by chii



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chii/pseuds/chii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes Washington years to realize that Connecticut was more of a hero than he ever was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definition

Connecticut betrayed us. 

The thought bounces around in his head left and right in the meetings when people bring it up, and others stifle even the mention of her. The rumors go 'round as they always do, and Carolina and York stifle what they can, but it never turns into anything other than just that.

Connecticut betrayed us. 

Eventually, as much as he hates it, as much as he wants to argue it until he's blue in the face (but never, never in front of the Director) he gives up, because the more he learns, the more they're told, the more he believes it. 

( Connie betrayed us. ) 

 

It gets easier to accept as time goes on. The others stop bringing it up as much because they have other things to focus on, other, more pressing, more important things, like the fact that Maine rose three spots during one mission, and Carolina-- faultless, always improving Carolina with her two AI, made a mistake. 

South won't stop talking about it for hours, how even with her AI, even with _two_ of them, Carolina isn't perfect, she's not, she's not. The rankings shift again, and Wash just watches, taking note of the way Carolina seems off, the way Wyoming's sense of humor twists, the way Maine is more vicious, the way North prowls the halls at night and the way York thinks a little harder on choices, the way he weighs things based on numbers and statistics rather than how he feels. 

The AI will change all of them, he realizes, and while it's not a bad thing, he can't stop hearing Connie's ( no, Connecticut's ) voice in his head telling him that there's something off. 

He'll get his AI soon enough, that's all that matters. Even with all the others on the board with their AI, he still holds his own against them, and makes a point not to look at the last name on the screen, below even the ones who died. He has no doubts that Connie had one thing right- the board wasn't just there to show them what to strive for, it was there to make a point. 

 

 

Epsilon doesn't last more than a few weeks, before he takes the rest of Wash's mind with him, leaves him silent and shell-shocked, and trying to cope with everything, with the mess in his head and the knowledge that he's discovered something that he can't possibly handle. The knowledge that someone was right. Someone warned him but he didn't listen, and now he couldn't tell up from down, couldn't lace his shoes without his fingers and hands shaking so badly that he had to concentrate deliberately on every single movement to make sure he did it right.

It takes daysweeksmonthsyears, he's not really sure, until he's ready to go back out again, and it's no surprise when the same people who certify him also uncertify him when he's needed again for something only he can do. 

_Funny how that works._

He remembers, though. He tucks it all back and remembers everything, remembers someone who told him to be wary, remembers conversations after missions and late at night over weapon maintenance. He remembers a name, but none of them sound right, no matter how he rolls them over his tongue, because all of them taste bitter. 

_Connecticut. CT._ It takes him months before he figures out the name he's missing, and doesn't know why that one fits better. _Connie._

 

 

 

“So, what, dude. You got some kind of hero complex going on, or something, because I will be the first one to step up and tell you that you are sooo not,” Alpha snorts, hologram flickering in the background while they work, and Wash sends him a dubious look that doesn't translate near as well as he'd like with the helmet on. 

No, he's not the hero. The hero is a different animal entirely. The hero runs in and saves the day, the hero is perfect save for a few minor flaws, the hero doesn't make huge mistakes where people die or get hurt. He's not the hero, but he's okay with that. He's made peace with that a long, long time ago. He's not the hero, but he'll do the right thing, even when no one else will. 

“You don't even have any legs,” Wash says finally, and that's that, as Alpha hisses and spits his irritation like an angry cat, the blue flickering sharply enough that he has to close his eyes. 

( he's not epsilon. )

Wash closes his eyes anyway. 

 

 

The new Carolina is more tired than he's used to. The others are scared of her, even if they don't admit it, even if they won't do anything but whisper and bitch and moan, and he can't blame them, really. If he were in their position, he'd be a little uneasy, too, but he knows her. She knows what she's doing. 

( if he had a dollar for every time he thought that and was showed that trusting people was a shit idea, he'd be rich. )

The others give her wide berth, but at the end of the night, Wash takes his watches with hers, partially because he can't sleep more than a few hours at a time, and partially, because he doesn't know when Carolina does sleep, and hopes that she'll catch some if she knows someone competent is there. 

The nights where they share watch are the ones he feels the most sane on, at the very least. It's rare that they talk more than a few words, but a few weeks into it, he finds himself talking almost by accident, flipping the useless datapad in between his fingers, frowning at it. 

“What did you think would be on there?” he asks, holding it out a moment, catching her glancing over and then shaking her head at him. “I was expecting something more than-- that. I mean, Tucker knew what it was.” 

That alone is enough to get her to shake her head, hanging her legs off the edge of the base, keeping a careful eye on the horizon, even when they both know that nothing is coming, not with both of them there. She'd gotten back the night before with the report that there was nothing around them for miles; Wash hadn't asked any questions, she hadn't offered any answers, and that was enough for him. 

“I don't know. Something. CT was always convinced there was something going on, and she--” Carolina exhales harshly through her teeth, clearly just as frustrated at the other former Freelancer had been right. She hadn't gone about it how Carolina or Wash would have, maybe, but she was right. “Something. I thought it could have survived being out here, but apparently not. It doesn't explain why he had it with him all these years, though. If he had it, he should have turned it in, and launched the investigation years ago. It doesn't add up.” 

Wash nods quietly, stretching both legs out and bracing his back against the pillar behind him, skimming their surroundings. “There's always the helmet logs. There might be enough stored to make heads or tails of it,” he offers quietly, and isn't surprised when she hands him another chip, taking it carefully. “Did you watch it already?” 

“Yeah. You might not want to.” That's all Carolina offers, shaking her head. “Go take a look. I'll keep watch, and sleep when you come back.”   
It's a compromise that he'll take for the time being, and he makes his way downstairs, not sure what to expect.

 

 

Wash finishes the data and tape review, and closes it all out, saving it, backing it up, and just puts his head in his hands for a long moment. He can't remember everything from back then, but it aches all the same, heavy and sick in the pit of his stomach, leaving him just staring at the data pad for a long moment. He might not remember every bit of her, but he knows enough, remembers enough to know that it's important that she was that intent on getting the data to someone, that intent on getting the Director's plans out there. She'd known the truth about Texas before any of them had. 

“You done?” Carolina asks quietly, rapping her knuckles on the door, unsurprised when he jumps, and draws a weapon all the same. She doesn't make any sudden movements, and Wash lowers it eventually, passing her back the primary copy, quiet for a long moment. “We're going to do it, Wash.” 

_( What Connie couldn't do. )_

It's enough to hear it right then, to know that the Director won't just skate clear of all of this, that he won't walk away free with a body count that outnumbered some of theirs. 

Carolina doesn't apologize, doesn't ask him any questions, doesn't do anything more than push her shoulder against his, much in the way they had back in Freelancer, silent encouragement or a show of support, because even if he doesn't remember everything about her, he still knows they were friends, still understands that it aches for a reason, even if the memories to back it up are still tangled and scattered and erased after Epsilon's melt down. 

“Let's go.”

_We're going to do it._

He doesn't have to ask what, not when he knows. They're going to kill the Director, they're going to do what no one else has been able to, and they're going to make things right. “It doesn't seem fair,” Wash says finally, raking a hand through his hair, his free hand dangling in his lap with the pistol there, safety flicked back on. “The only one out of us who knew and tried to do something about it, and all that's left of her is the Director's logs is the fact that she's a traitor.” 

Carolina scoffs at that-- right or not, all of this was just rubbing salt in another wound that hadn't healed. Wash didn't need to ask to know that Carolina still held it against her because there was a process for this-- if she'd come to them with the information, told them, then she could have saved more lives, could have saved herself. “So fix it when we get there. If we kill the Director, no one will have any right to say if we make any changes.” 

 

 

He doesn't think about it again until Carolina's snapped the Director's neck, and Wash is standing there in front of the control panel, with the list of names, the blacked out text, the censors and filters and everything the Director had done. His certification, Carolina's insanity, Agent York's psych profiles, everything was in here, and he's relieved when Carolina turns a blind eye to him changing all of it, to him downloading information, because if there was anyone left for any of them, they deserved to know that they weren't war criminals. They weren't the war heroes that the Spartans had been, but they deserved something better than than what it read currently for each of them-- war criminal – MIA. He can't add the medals they deserve, or the commendations, but he knows that they deserve something more, really. The families deserve some sort of closure, which is why he updates everything to reflect the recovery beacons he'd answered, the military accidents he'd witnessed, everything the military wouldn't take credit for, would sweep under the rug. Someone would find it.

It takes time that they don't have, but she covers the door, bumps her shoulder against his when it's time, and he overwrites the previous file, deleting everything else and leaving that as Simmons hollers that it's really, really time to go _now,_ , thank you. 

“Did you change it to say 'war heroes,' or just 'unlucky.'” she asks, faint, bitter humor in her tone; it's a joke, a poor one, but one nonetheless. “Come on.” Carolina moves stiffly, sounding years older than she is, and Wash follows her out, leaving the Director's body behind, small and old and frail, and the screen reading what it should have, years ago. They owe the others that much.

**Author's Note:**

> I think Connie gets a lot of shit unnecessarily, honestly. I could go on and on about it, but ultimately, I think that she was the biggest part of trying to bring Freelancer down and while she didn't do it right, I think it was mostly because she kept getting shot down at every turn when she tried to warn them, tried to make them see that Shit Was Fucked Up. The whole romance bit with the dude seemed awfully one-sided, too- used more like an attempt to cajole him into listening to her, because he wasn't at that point and while this fic isn't specifically Wash/Connie I REALLY TRIED FOR IT. 8(
> 
> Also dkjhf Wash being Wash, I think he's totally the kind of person who does something like change the roster to reflect that some of them were killed in action, some were war heroes, some were killed in accidents, etc. The Director would probably cover most of it up to try and save his own hide, really, so no matter how useless it is, Wash'd be the guy to change it all back and make it known somewhere what happened there, even if justice doesn't happen how he and Carolina want. 
> 
> 8( you also totally know that after downloading the info on the families, he either visited or sent letters to explain that the family member they lost to Freelancer wasn't a war criminal or a traitor or just missing in action. 
> 
> Waaaaaaaaaash.


End file.
